Chapter 6: Memories I: Wild Axefighter
"Oi! Come here, punk!" yelled a voice.
I snapped back into reality as my eyes left my book. An axe-wielding brute wearing a metallic headband similar in appearance to a diadem and possessing a rather la…or overlarge nose was calling me. He was no doubt Bartholomew Guerrero, also known as the self-proclaimed "Bartre the Brave." He was known for being a rather dense man who lived to fight.
"W-What is it?" I asked.
The first two lines that would lead to a lasting friendship…
"What's with that get-up? Are you another one of those magic types?" he asked as he scratched his head.
"Err, well... I do dabble in the dark arts...," I answered.
"Dark arts? What's that?!" he asked with a curious expression not unlike that of a child learning his numbers.
"Ah, well it's quite interesting, really," I explained, "You see, there are several types of magic in this cosmos. Monks practice light magic, mages practice anima magic, and we shamans practice elder magic, which some call dark!"
"Nguuoooohhhh!" Bartre cried in agony while grasping his head.
"W-What's the matter?!" I asked frantically…
"Nnng. Hard words make my head hurt!" he exclaimed.
"I-I apologize. Did I use... hard words?" I asked. To be blunt, I did not believe that words such as "cosmos" and "practice" would be considered "hard."
"You callin' me stupid!?" Bartre angrily yelled.
I realized that I had offended him, "No, err, I never meant-- No."
"Right," he calmed down…slightly…and threw his axe on the ground, "Well, that's all right, then. I'm just going to punch that rock over there until my head feels better..."
"Righto. Have fun... I guess...," I answered uneasily and thought, 'He cures his headaches via the punching of boulders?! What an intriguing fellow…'
I slowly backed away as he repeatedly struck the rock… When I began reading, I noticed that he repeated this process for a few hours before it ceased and he lifted his weapon. As he began fighting again, I wondered what fueled him so…I had never seen someone devoted to battle as much as him.
"Hah, hah!" he laughed as he hewed his way through his enemies.
It was perplexing how such a firecracker would be best friends with the placid, silent Dorcas Sosieg. Several foes charged him at once, but Bartre grinned and swung his axe in a wide arc, slaying them.
"W-Wait! Spare my life! I-I have a family…," an injured enemy soldier yelled in terror as he lifted his hands and dropped his shield and lance…being the sole survivor, he found no more reason to fight.
Bartre laughed and planted his axe firmly into the ground and leaned on it, "Coward…but I respect your choice… Now outta my sight!"
The soldier scurried away…Bartre lifted his axe high into the air and struck the shield and cleaved it into two pieces, "Hah, hah! You break!"
Strangely, he did not seem to possess any bloodlust…he merely enjoyed swinging his axe. He was an honorable man, I admired that fact.
A few days later…
"So, it's you again, magic man," Bartre greeted me.
Magic man, what a bland nickname…but I did not find it offensive at all, and I rather liked his company, thus I still waved at him, "Why, hello there!"
"You read a lot of books, huh?" he noted, "What's that book there?"
"Oh, this one?" I pointed at the tome I was currently reading, "Yes... Well it's actually... a rather fascinating excursion into cryptopaleontology..."
Ah…cryptopaleontology…perhaps one of the most intriguing branches of paleontology… Paleontology itself is the study of the development of life on earth, evidence by disruptions caused by their influence such as fossils, ichnites, burrows, palynomorphs…etc… The primary economic importance of paleontology lies in the use of fossils to determine the age and nature of the rocks that contain them or the layers above or below. Ah, the petrified forms of the remains of ancient life absorbed my attention as the pinnacle of the whole tome… Cryptopaleontology, the hidden secrets of the bits and pieces of the unknowable…that are incomprehensible at the moment…many strived to solve their riddle, most notably the author of this digressional article. Unfortunately, I would be unable to relay, or pass on this information to my companion because…
"Stop!! Say no more!" Bartre wailed.
"Oh, right," I restrained myself from continuing.
"That was too close!" he exclaimed, "I don't care what kind of book it is!" then he curiously asked, "But you can kill people with that book, right?"
"Ah, no," I explained, "Actually, this is not a dark tome...," Flux and Luna would be a tome of darkness…the book I am currently reading would be a tome of zoology, as cryptopalentology roots from paleontology, which roots from zoology.
"What? Then what good is it on the battlefield?" he asked.
I had no reasonable answer to respond with, "Well, no good at all, I suppose."
"What?! That makes no sense! Why are you reading it then?" he jumped back bewildered.
"Why, for the thrill of new knowledge, I guess," was the best reply I could give, "Man lives for the joy of new ideas, doesn't he?"
Bartre scratched his head and thought for a moment, then responded, "Ummm...Uhh. I see. See, like, I try to eat all I can after a battle. And this is, like, the same thing, right?"
Every person has his or her desires, and Bartre's seemed to revolve around fighting and eating, "Yes, well...perhaps. I suppose."
Bartre gave out a hearty guffaw, "So that's...that's what you do, right? I like you, magic man! I hope you learn everything and stuff!"
"Well...I shall try. Err, thank you," I replied then asked, "Err…as a warrior you must be quite strong…have you fought many battles."
"Of course, and I've never lost a single one! …Except for that wench Ka…wait! What am I saying? Fine, do you want me to show you my abilities?"
"Ah…a demonstration…," I noted, "of your prowess in battle?"
Bartre boastfully sauntered toward a mercenary with short scarlet locks and hard, piercing eyes as sharp as icy daggers. Strangely this youth possessed a royal air about him.
"Ah! You!" Bartre yelled at the soldier-for-hire.
"…What?" the mercenary frostily responded.
"That gaze that misses nothing! That gait free of wasted effort!" Bartre exclaimed, "You are strong! And someday, we shall fight!"
"What are you talking about?" asked the callous mercenary, but the next thing he knew was that the brute was charging at him, axe in hand…
Few minutes later…the outcome…
"Fists, not words, right?" asked the mercenary while cracking his knuckles.
Bartre lying on the ground pleaded, "H-Hey! I know your type... Cool face and heart of fire! Men shouldn't be temper--uwwaoh! W-Wait! Whoaa! I-I said wait! Wait!"
The crimson-haired condottiere, whose name turned out to be Raven, had stepped aside thus evading the blow. After being provoked by Bartre who said that men live by the strength of their arms and talk with their fists, Raven let his fists do the talking…not literally… It would be quite fascinating if fists possessed the ability of verbal communication, but as they have no opening for mouths…it is impossible. Ah, I seem to be daydreaming… Back to the topic, it baffled me how such a giant of a man was so easily defeated by a youth who was not a day over nineteen…
'It would be best for me to not involve myself in such a situation…,' I thought as I furtively strode away to a safe distance nowhere near in proximity to where I had been stading.
I heard Bartre mutter, "You sellsword…brat…"
Raven raised an eyebrow, "Sellsword, eh? I'd rather be a hireling than a helpless weakling who does not know his rightful place…such as yourself," and smote Bartre on the jaw, shortly followed by another strike…I believe it is called the ol' one…two?
Then Raven placidly lifted his steel broadsword and walked away.
As Raven left, I saw a mounted cleric approach… She possessed the same royal air and crimson hair as Raven, but she wore a kinder expression, in comparison to the hard-eyed mercenary. However, both appeared to be troubled and distraught. Her name was Priscilla, I believe.
"Please forgive my brother," she beseeched, "he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder…"
"Thwry behn ai canpth…," was all Bartre could say.
'What? Bartre can cast magic?' I thought, but then I realized that that he was not chanting the ancient language…that was all he could say with a broken jaw…
"But if you aggravate him once more, I cannot guarantee than you will escape unscathed…with you life…," warned Priscilla.
Bartre shuddered as Priscilla began praying…, "Oh Saint Elimine, praise be your graces. Please grant this humble mortal merely an inkling of your transcendent abilities to cure the wounded and cease the unfinished task of charity, Heal…"
A large, radiant orb materialized above our heads… Though it was composed of intangible energy, it had a strange crystalline nature. The orb vanished and reformed near Bartre, who absorbed it (unintentionally). Instantly his wounds were healed, but one thing wasn't…no, never would be cured…a dreadful curse known as "hurt pride".
Suddenly a thief leapt out of the bushes nearby, dagger in hand. As he tried to stab Priscilla, Bartre stood in his path. Bartre smiled as blood dripped from his arm.
"You shouldn't!" exclaimed Priscilla, "I just healed your wounds! You should rest and let your body become fully accustomed to the magical effects! Don't overdo–"
Bartre smiled and explained, "Sorry, miss. But to a warrior, there is no such thing as 'overdo'."
The thief jumped back to put some distance between him and his enemy. Then Bartre threw his Hand-Axe, causing the thief to evade the whirling blade of destruction, but it left our enemy open to attack…
"Seiras Revdaes Kirtsdnad Nuorgred Nusediht Aaht Erehpsk Radt Naiga, FLUX!" I chanted the incantations. My magical energy once again externalized in the form of the surging sphere of darkness… This spell lives up to its name, as the dark forces are instable and most difficult to control albeit very powerful… The thief appeared to be unaccustomed to fighting sorcerers, such as myself… After materializing below him, the dark orb extended into grasping shadow tentacles that constricted and engulfed our foe.
"That rascal was for me to kill!" exclaimed Bartre angrily exclaimed while pointing at the bloody mass which was once a thief.
"Allow me to clarify," I elucidated, "the thief may not be one to use brute force, but it's not likely that any of your hits would connect due to his dexterity. I had no choice but to intervene…"
Bartre sulked away, disgruntled.
I covered one of eyes with my right palm and asked, "Shall I scry for more enemies?"
"Hah! I need no tears from you!" yelled Bartre while turning his back on me.
"You are capable of scrying?" asked Priscilla.
"Yes, it's a rather basic dark-elemental tracking spell that all competent shamans should know… Although I do not need to make use an item such as a crystal ball or telescope… I believe Bartre thought I had meant 'crying.'"
Few weeks later…
"Hnnh? What's the matter, magic man?" asked Bartre, "You don't look so good..."
"Yes, well, I am a bit fatigued, actually," I admitted, "You know, scholars are not used to such strenuous activity."
"You're body turned to mush because you read too much, magic man," said Bartre.
'Mush…? No my body is made of flesh,' I thought, but answered, "Yes... I suppose that's one way of putting it."
Bartre cracked his knuckles (strong men seem to repeat this process quite often) and said, "Well then! I'll whip you into shape!"
I was already having trouble with Vaida, I must admit that this was the last thing I needed, "Ah, no! Please. Really, I don't think--"
Bartre struck his chest twice and said, "Don't worry about it! It's no bother for me! In exchange, you can just lend me one of those books!"
That was an answer that I had least expected, "A-A book?"
"Yeah. Maybe... a skinny one," Bartre said uneasily.
I was well…suspicious, "... Are you...going to...eat it?"
Bartre suddenly grew tense, "Are you calling me stupid!?"
It appeared that I had vexed him again and frantically answered, "No! Nothing of the sort!"
"Warriors must become strong!" he yelled as he lifted his axe.
"Ah...yes," Thank goodness he was not planning on eating it… Bartre possessed a greater appetite than Vaida's Umbriel… Thus my hypothesis was that because Umbriel enjoyed eating books, I believed Bartre would eat one too…or two…or three... Ahh…little did Vaida know that I carry two copies of each book… Or make that at least…two.
"My body is powerful, but your body has brains," said Bartre, "We have different paths, but we both fight bravely. We can help each other along our different paths."
I never expected a fighter's mind to be that complex…he wasn't just a belligerent but kind buffoon that I believed him to be. No, he was definitely more…, "Why...yes! You're probably right... Well, it seems I may have much to learn from you. I look forward to it..."
"Nnh. Yeah! But first, wait! Punch me as hard as you can!" he ordered.
"Um…are you sure?" I asked worriedly.
"Sure, I can handle it!" Bartre laughed.
"Uh…like this…?" I asked as I punched him.
Bartre howled in anguish and collapsed to the ground.
He cringed in pain saying, "Ow! Oh, St. Elimine! No, not there, you idiot! Never hit there! Ugh! Just aim a little…a little…. bit higher…"
"P-Please forgive me…you see, I am uh…unaccustomed to using my fists in combat…how about here?" I said frantically as I aimed for a higher destination for my fist to connect to…
"Ow! My nose! Ugh! You crushed my beautiful nose!" he exclaimed while grasping his protruding appendage, "Aim lower! But not as low as the…first strike…that would hurt…"
'Dealing with this man is going to be more troublesome than I thought,' as I prepared for another attack.
Few hours later…
"Yeah! Right there! Just right there! Punch me again and again and again!" yelled Bartre
'So this…is what it's like to be a child forced to fight against his will…ah…I am glad that I chose not to take the path of the pugilist…it is too arduous…for my tastes…,' I thought as sweat beaded on my face and drenched my robes…I wanted to strike where I had punched first (strangely, men seem to feel intense pain when struck in that area), to get this over with, but then I wouldn't be keeping my side of the bargain.
After that day, I had Priscilla heal my bloody knuckles….
We repeated this training for days…but soon Priscilla's healing was no longer necessary, as my knuckles became accustomed to this activity…
Several weeks later, in the aftermath of a battle…
"Thanks, magic man!" said Bartre.
"W-What for, Bartre?" I asked.
"That Secret Book you lent me…," he answered, "I had trouble reading it at first, but…soon I started understanding its strategies… Now my axe skills are greater than ever!"
"That's good to know. Earlier you informed me that you enjoyed eating…," I responded, "Here…you may find pleasure in this book also, it's called '1,000 Feasts of Etruria', a book of culinary arts."
"Agpth!!! What's kulni-whatever it's called?" Bartre asked.
"Ah…it means cooking…," I explained, "If I must be blunt, you should expand your vocabulary… Here…this is a Spelling Book, it might come in handy."
One morning in Ostia….
Mark the tactician appeared before us and said, "Everyone, we have but few days before our conflict with Nergal, and Ostia has generously provided us with 30,000 gold. We will mainly purchase weapons and spells, but if you are interested, we will test our skills in the arena. Do not bring any weapons with you, as the arena personnel with supply them, but do however bring some gold if you wish to gamble on the outcome of the battle… All warriors have to wager on themselves, however, so be absolutely certain that you won't regret your decision once entering..."
"Hah!" laughed Bartre whiled pointing at a small brooch on his sleeveless shirt, "You see this, magic man? With this badge, my victory is ensured!"
"Ah…," I inquired, "This is a Hero Crest, a rare insignia only bestowed upon to warriors who have proven their worth in battle, am I correct?"
"Absolutely right," said Bartre while taking out a quiver, "and I asked Wil to train me, now I can shoot arrows as well!"
Bartre seemed to have developed an immunity to "hard words."
We entered the town of Ostia…then we split into three groups…
Priscilla, Nino, Lucius, Pent, Nils, Priscilla, and I left for the Vendor.
"If you wish to register, follow me," said our guide. A majority of our allies decided to fight in the arena.
Hector was the first of our merry band to stand in line… Hawkeye seemed interested in the outside world…he wished to broaden his horizon of how men fight outside of Nabata… Heath and Guy entered, but with opposite reasons…Heath, to become stronger to protect those around him…and Guy to be the greatest swordsman…But both fighters seemed to be motivated when Priscilla was nearby. Legault followed Heath which may seem like a jest, but his true reason appears is…well he is a thief, and thieves have a certain impulse when seeing long lines of people, all facing one direction and loose pockets and satchels... Wil automatically followed when Lady Lyndis decided to take part in the tournament… The triad of silence: Jaffar, Rath, and Raven just tagged along…these three are the very epitome of proverbs or "There are times when silence has the loudest voice", they're men of few words who prefer to act rather than talk. Geitz, Matthew, and Farina wanted to fill their wallets. No doubt, cravers of battle such as Bartre, Wallace, Dart, and Karel entered as well. Vaida, Oswin, and Marcus partook in the event to bring glory and honor to their respective countries… Erk didn't seem to mind the fact that he was the sole magician participating of our group. The more peaceful members (Dorcas, Eliwood, Florina, Rebecca, Harken, Kent, Fiora, Isadora, Louise, and Lowen) headed toward the Armories. Sain enrolled his name on the list to closely examine a certain something, no somethings…while fighting…to what that something is…I believe it speaks for itself…
"Yipee!" yelled Serra, "I'm gonna go to the arena and fight to!"
Several of us were worried, as nothing could bend her indestructible wall of a will. Fortunately, her will to flee when prone to violence was as equally strong.
Few minutes later, Serra came running into the vendor screaming, "That meanie! That big guy with an axe almost cut me in half!"
I purchased a few Flux tomes and a Nosferatu…several other non-magic related books held my attention as well.
Our guide then came and was kind enough to lead us to the arena. The coliseum was full of young swordsmen out to prove their worth, as well as several seasoned veteran warriors who wished to test their skills. Occasionally, there would be a magician or two memorizing chants while waiting in line. Also there were several bandits and pirates, fierce and wearing the scars of many battles, entering… Wait…bandits and pirates?
I asked our guide, "Don't people feel uncomfortable with these pirates and bandits around them?"
"Not really," he explained, "The brigands are not here to pillage or steal, they're only here to fight, and that's exactly what the spectators want to watch…"
Our guide led us to our seats in the audience … My seat was adjacent to Lord Pent's and Dorcas's. It was a medium-priced seat where we could hear what the combatants were saying, and could watch all the action.
The current battle was Vaida V.S. Drayne the Sage.
Drayne…I had heard of him, before. He was a drifting mage of Etruria. Vaida's Umbriel flew high into the air. Grasping her spear, Vaida lunged at her foe. Drayne remained calm, began chanting the incantations, and formed a whirling tempest… I believe the spell was known as Fimbulvetr? It is known to be the most formidable water-elemental spell known to men and dragon alike (although the latter are incapable of casting them, well I suppose)…it's also believed to be one of the most fearsome spells of nature, second only to Excalibur. Vaida was fast, but the hurricane was faster… The gale struck Umbriel and froze both the wyvern and the rider. Badly wounded, Vaida and her dragon crashed to the ground.
"Damn…ME, GIVE UP? HAH! I'D NEV-" yelled Vaida (despite being gravely injured) so loudly that everyone could hear. It was not difficult to perceive that sound, as her piercing banshee scream echoed throughout the stadium.
Apparently the referee only understood the part where she had said "give up", thus he declared Drayne the winner and the merciless wyvern-rider was carried away.
"Vaida…she put up a good fight…," said Pent, "But she is no match against a magician of Etruria…"
"Hmm…she should be thankful, she would have died if she didn't forfeit… So that's this Vaida I've been looking for… Hmph…I expected more," muttered Dorcas. Vaida and Dorcas were often assigned to fight alongside on numerous occasions. It's an interesting stratagem, Vaida would attack from the sky and strike fear in her foes, while Dorcas would charge and hew at them with his axe…the tactic itself is quite effective, but… It's quite amusing actually, according to Erk, whenever Vaida was here, Dorcas was there and visa-versa… This is probably the first or second time that Dorcas laid his eyes upon Vaida.
The next match was Raven the condottiere against a paladin named Turnus.
The paladin gave out a hearty laugh and threw a javelin at Raven.
Raven lifted his shield to block the flying lance, and then he threw his shield high into the air.
The sudden movement of the shield was so abrupt, that Turnus froze in place, out of astonishment.
"That seems to be quite an effective diversion technique…," noted Dorcas.
While Turnus was distracted, Raven charged at Turnus and impaled his horse with his longsword right after catching his shield. The blade pierced the horse's skin like a hot knife through butter. Blood gushed out, and drenched the blade as Raven extracted his weapon. The stallion whinnied as it fell to the floor, it began struggling against the dragging forces of death, but then it lay motionless…never to move again.
"Ah…the Longsword…," observed Pent, "I believe its called the Zanbato in Sacae? A long, curved blade meant for slaying the horse and rider in one swing… Thus making it an effective anti-cavalry weapon…"
Turnus became enraged and yelled in a booming voice, "HOW DARE YOU KILL MY MISSY!"
Turnus unsheathed a Steel Blade and charged Raven.
"Heh!" sneered Raven as he ran his blade through his foe, "You're a paladin… Without your mount, you're nothing…"
"Not even a nothing…," said Raven as he removed his sword from the carcass, "You should be glad, you're reunited with your beloved Missy…"
The battle was over as Raven slowly walked away from the corpse and collected his winnings…
"Ah…just two thrusts…and it's over…," I noted, "An unquenchable lust for more power, implacable rage, and a longing for revenge can lead to so much might…"
"His blade…it has many similarities to its wielder. It's as scarlet as his hair…it's also as tainted as his heart," said Pent.
The next round was about to begin…
A collector walked down the aisle yelling, "Place your bets! Place your bets! Bartre V.S. Karla!"
I examined my wallet, "Bartre is fighting now, eh? Ah, I seem to be running a little low on money lately… I shall place my bet on Bartre."
"Eight-Hundred and Ninety gold! Is that fine with ya?" asked the collector.
"Why not?" I asked as I handed him a pouch containing the desired amount of coins.
"Heh heh!" laughed the collector as he walked away, "You must be new around here! Thanks for the money, 'cuz you'll surely lose!"
"He is too overconfident…there must be something to back that up…," Pent noted.
"That Karla he's fighting must be a formidable foe," remarked Dorcas.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Are you ready for the next battle! Bring our combatants! Will a new legend be born today? From the Blue Corner, we have the wild axman who hews all that stands in his way, Bartre the Brave!"
The crowd cheered as Bartre arrogantly strolled down the passageway and emerged from the large gate with the blue outline…
"Now from the Red Corner, I know you've been waiting for this, folks! Our undefeated Grand Champion who has fought Nine-Hundred and Ninety-Nine Battles and won them all! Will she tidy up to her One-Thousandth Win? There's only one way to find out! I introduce to you the Rose of Battle, the Elegant Swordswoman, the Gladiator Queen, the Coliseum Conqueror, the Sword of Swords, the Arena Assailant, Eternal Victor, the Battle Goddess, the Taciturn Killer, the Drifting Wanderer, the Lethal Beauty, the Preying Falcon, and now her official title, KARLA, THE PRINCESS OF SWORDS!!!"
I became worried, "That is a significantly long…and draggingly wearisome introduction…hers was approximately five times longer than his…"
"I would not be surprised if anyone fell asleep while hearing it…," muttered Dorcas with closed eyes.
"Nine-Hundred Ninety-Nine wins, no losses, eh? And with all those aliases…," said Pent, "That Karla must be a formidable opponent."
"Only 999 wins?" sneered a man sitting near us, "That's only how many times she wom in this arena, she has fought at least 10 times of how much she fought here. Karla appears at tournaments like these and slices through her foes with ease. Then she just disappears, but she comes back once in a while. From what I've heard, she's looking for a man from her past. Some rumors say that she's the brother of the Sword Demon. Sword Demon V.S. Princess of Swords? Now that is a battle worth watching…"
Ah! This seems to ring a bell… Bartre had mentioned losing to a "wench" that he referred to as "Ka", before changing his mind and deciding not to reveal the sole combatant who had defeated him. This Karla must be the one who emerged victor in their battle and no doubt whom Bartre holds a grudge upon…
A female swordmaster emerged from the gate with the crimson outline… The crowd let out such an uproar that the whole stadium appeared to shake. When I listened carefully, I realized that they were rooting for the swordmaster. I admit that she was quite beautiful.
Bartre gasped as if he had seen his worst enemy…and with a countenance filled with wrath and fury, he yelled "You! Wench!"
The swordmaster stonily reared her head and faced her opponent, "Hm?"
"Meeting me here will be your doom!" Bartre yelled…his face revealed that he wanted to cut her down this instant, but was attempting to restrain himself to keep his honor, "I must erase the shame I met on the Western Isles! Come! We duel!"
"Hmm…," said Dorcas, "Bartre's expanse of vocabulary has significantly increased."
"I heard that you're tutoring him, Son of Niime?" asked Pent.
"Y-Yes...," I answered.
Karla thought for a moment then answered, "...Oh, I remember you. You're the guy who came out of nowhere and challenged me...The one I knocked out with my first sword stroke."
"The Bartre before you is not the same one you faced then!" he boasted, "I will have my revenge for the Isles here in Ostia! Now, dig up some courage, and do your worst!
"Well…at least he's a little smarter than the Bartre he knew then…but his arrogance is obviously unchanged," muttered Dorcas.
"Hmmm...I did not come here looking for a fight," revealed Karla, "But how can I refuse you your revenge? Let us begin."
"That's strange," I admitted, "If she isn't looking for a fight, what's she doing in the arena?"
"Probably to look for that person," said the man who had spoke earlier.
After their talk was over, they began their clash…
Karla rapidly withdrew her blade, and in a flash she was gone. Then she began running circles around Bartre. She move with such extreme speed that I could only see afterimages of her, here and there… It appeared as if five Karlas were encircling her foe, soon it appeared as it Bartre was surrounded by a tornado. The crowd cheered very loudly.
Bartre smiled and readied his bow, "Hah! You won't fool me! I've been focusing on the real one the whole time!"
Bartre aimed and his arrow. The arrow whizzed by with unbelievable accuracy toward the Karla whirlwind, it narrowly missed the real Karla's head by a few inches…yet Karla still remained cool, calm, and collected.
"When did Bartre become so accurate?" asked Dorcas, "I was the first to know him in our army, and he was a rather inept fool who often missed…now he has such frightening precision…"
"That Secret Book tied to his belt may be the answer," noted Pent.
Suddenly Karla vanished…
"You think I can't find you? You're above me! How I know? The flowing of your long gray hair shows me the direction you're moving!" yelled Bartre as he shot an arrow into the air.
It was true, Karla moved so quickly that the end of her hair was facing the opposite direction in which she took. Since her hair faced neither left nor right as she disappeared, Bartre had logically assumed that she had leapt into the air.
"Bartre has grown quite perceptive as well…the Secret Book can work wonders…," Pent observed.
Karla managed to parry the shaft, even in the air.
Then she lunged toward Bartre with a sword-plant…who blocked the blow by pulling out his axe.
For a split-second, an expression of shock appeared on her face, then she restored her placid visage that we had seen so much of, "Oh...It seems you've improved some."
Bartre began twirling his axe, "Quiet! We've only just started. Continue!"
Karla asked, "So tell me, where have you been training?"
Bartre bragged, "I serve Lord Eliwood now. I'm working as a guard for him! Tough opponents every day, but we just tear 'em up and cast 'em aside!"
Karla smiled as she sheathed her blade, "Ha...That's interesting. If that's the case, I think I'll join you."
Now, it was Bartre who had an expression of shock, "What?"
Karla explained, "My brother gravitates toward strong warriors...This journey of yours sounds like a dangerous one. Joining you might help me find him sooner."
Bartre disagreed, "I don't know what you mean! What about our duel?!"
Karla assured him, "We'll put it on hold. Don't worry. I won't run away. I like you. It would a waste to kill you here. Someday I'll finish you in an appropriate fashion!"
Bartre thought for a moment and said, "Hmm... OK! Agreed! You're now my sworn enemy, wench!"
Then Karla walked back toward the gate in which she had entered. The whole crowd made a real uproar, but stopped when Karla threw her blade at one of the spectators and said, "My goal is more important than winning battles…"
The collector handed me the coins with a discontented look on his face, "Grr… You win this time."
Few hours later, Karla was seen walking toward the seats and pulling out her blade, which no one had dared to touch.
Bartre won all of his other battles and came back with a staggering amount of gold, but he gave me half of the pile saying, "I owed you one."
After the final battle, in Castle Pherae, where we parted ways…
After saying farewell to Pent, Nino, and a few of my friends (I admit I did not have many as I spent my time reading tomes rather than interacting) I left for my home in Illia when I heard a voice, "Canas!"
"So you finally know my name Bartre," I responded as I turned around, "Care to tell me where you're going?"
"I'm not sure actually," admitted Bartre, "But I decided, that just like you, I'll be a wanderer!"
A wanderer?
"Do you remember that one book you gave me? The Warrior's Path? It well, opened my eyes…it showed me that there was more to life than just fighting… It also taught me that a fighter should not just fight for the pleasure, but for other reasons as well. You're on a journey for knowledge, right?"
"Yes," I said.
"Well, the main goal of this wandering is to fight, but the second reason is that I want to know what the world has for me. I want to know the reason of my existence, is it to fight, to help? I don't know! But, I believe this journey will assist me in this decision, I'll never forget you magic man…you've been a great help… Here, I'm not sure if its an equal exchange, but I think it will do."
Bartre threw a large axe at me, which I was able to barely catch. Without my training with him, my weak physique would have given in to its weight, "This axe is very important to me, don't worry I can buy another one. This axe is so close to me, it's like another part of my body. But, I want you to keep it, so you can remember me…"
"Bartre…thank you…," was the only response I could give him in return.
Ah… the memories…
The nomads had graciously provided us shelter for the night… I was silently reading in my tent.
"Hey, Cary!" yelled Hugh… It seemed that he has made some friends…as he was accompanied by four nomads… Kaspar was one of them. It was proven that Kaspar had in fact taken a walk…in shame…the inability for Sacaens to lie never ceases to amaze me…
"These guys and I are gonna get some booze. You want to come with us?" asked Hugh.
"I'd rather not," I uneasily answered, "I possess low tolerance for alcohol…"
"Yeah, whatever…," snorted Hugh.
"How 'bout you Sue?" asked Kaspar.
Sue who happened to be nearby answered, "Absolutely not. Drinking is a vice…"
"Come on!" yelled another nomad.
"Well, I guess one drink will not hurt…," acknowledged Sue.
"Hey Shin, you wanna come along?" asked Hugh.
Shin ignored him…
As the merry band left…I slowly drifted to sleep…
Few hours later,
"Wake up, please!" said a voice.
I groaned as I aroused to see…Sue who was laying sprawled on the floor with her hands at my feet.
"Please I beseech you, you are the only one capable…," she begged.
"Only one capable of what?" I asked frantically.
"Canas, you are the only one capable of resurrecting my father!" was the reply.